


there's blossom on the trees in springtime

by DrowningInStarlight



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Families of Choice, Fix-It, Fluff, Gen, Post-Canon, me: but what if it WASNT, rqg: is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/pseuds/DrowningInStarlight
Summary: Twenty years later, there's some welcome guests at Sasha and Grizzop's rogue guild.(Sasha's forty years old, and finally, she has a family.)
Relationships: Sasha Racket & Everyone
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	there's blossom on the trees in springtime

**Author's Note:**

> what if,, the party all stayed in the same timeline,, and saved the world with zero casualties,, rome dni

The sky is huge and blue and Flavia is ten years old and full of rage. She whacks at her cousin with one of the wooden sticks the pair of them have made into swords, but they dodge, then reach forward and grab the end of the stick. 

“Got you!” they crow.

“That’s cheating!” Flavia gasps, “That’s the sharp end, you’ve lost all your fingers now— let go! They’re all cut off, you can’t hold on, let—” 

A shadow flickers across the sun, and both children gaze upwards. The huge bronze dragon is silhouetted against the sky, glittering like the stars at night. As one, they turn and run for the house at the top of the hill. 

—

Sasha’s tired a lot, nowadays, but not in the cruel, decaying way she used to be. Her scars still ache, the back of her hair is still a sharp, burnt white, she still has knives up her sleeves and in her boots, but it’s different now. It’s not fear that drives her to carry weapons, it’s not the days of sleeping rough and being half killed by monsters that makes her ache. Not anymore. She has an office, now, filled with paperwork and old cups of coffee, children’s drawings pinned onto all the walls. A celebration of a life she never thought she’d get to live. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, and Sasha gets up to open it. She deliberately doesn’t bother to avoid the floorboards that creak, she’s not on duty as the head of the guild today. There’s no need for stealth. It’s been more than twenty years since she left Other London, but she’s still reminding herself that every day. 

Azu is smiling when Sasha opens the door. She’s traded her armour for a pink jacket, the sleeves rolled up, displaying more tattoos than ever. Being the High Priestess of Aphrodite has suited her well. Sasha knew it would. There’s a small child sitting on her boot, rambling away about something, one arm gesturing wildly, the other firmly wrapped around her calf. When the door opens, the kid leaps up and shouts “I found Auntie Azu!” 

“You did,” Azu tells him solemnly. “Well done, little one.” 

“Go tell Grizzop Azu’s here, would you, mate?” Sasha asks him, and he nods, beaming, before skipping off. 

“I swear you have more of them than last time,” Azu says. “Younger ones, too.” 

Sasha sighs. “Dangerous world out there.” 

Azu looks sympathetic. She’s seen her share of the world’s hardships, they all have. “You and Grizzop are always welcome to call me for help. If you need it.” 

“Cheers, Azu. Really. And I did call you, didn’t I?” 

Azu gives her a mock disapproving look. “This isn’t for work. This is a celebration!” 

Distant shouting echoes down the hallway, accompanied by the sound of running footsteps. Two different children tumble into the office, still yelling.

“Uncle Hamid’s here!” the girl shouts. 

“Uncle Zolf! Uncle Zolf!” the other adds, and waves the wooden sword in a way that makes Sasha and Azu both instinctively duck a little. “They’re here, they’re outside!” 

“We’ll go find them,” Sasha says. “Good job letting us know.” 

Azu smiles and nods agreement, holding the door for Sasha. 

“Reckon you’re right, y’know,” Sasha says, as they head out into the hallway. 

“Hm?” 

“This… it is a celebration. After all.” 

“Oh, Sasha,” Azu says. “May I hug you?” 

Sasha nods. It’s still not her favourite thing, hugging, but she doesn’t flinch away in fear of pain like she used to. Hugging Azu is nice. A reminder that they both made it, bodies and hearts intact. 

“I don’t miss the old days,” Azu says into the hug. Sasha pulls away to look at her. “Not, you know, the end of the world. But I do miss you. All of you. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks since I was last here, but… still.” 

“Well, no worries there,” Sasha says cheerily. “We’re all here. Literally. People’re downstairs. Shall we?” 

—

They meet Grizzop out in the courtyard. He’s got his bow in his hand, two quivers on his back, and the teenagers that follow him are armed similarly. He teaches all the kids how to shoot once they turn sixteen, a reward, he says, for making it as far as they have. Sasha doesn’t know how she’d do this without Grizzop by her side. This place is his life’s work just as much as it is hers. 

“Hey, Sasha! Wotcher, Azu!” He races over to them, fistbumps Sasha, then practically leaps into Azu’s arms. 

“And how are you, Grizzop?” she asks, reaching round to place him on her shoulder, like she always does.

“I’m excellent,” Grizzop says. “No one accidently shot anyone else today, so we’re doing better than last week! How’s the temple?” 

“Flourishing,” is all Azu says, but her pride is evident. She’d almost single handedly rebuilt people’s faith in Aphrodite’s temples after the fall of the cults. They’d all helped where they could, because while the London Rangers were long gone, and the LOLOMG merely a fond memory, the friendship remained. Bonds formed in fire and worse. It is Azu’s passion, though, her strength and her love, that have people turning to Aphrodite’s temple again. 

Grizzop scruffs his knuckles against the fuzz starting to grow again on Azu’s head and grins. “So I heard the Terrible Two are here, as well?” 

“You never would’ve guessed it,” Sasha says dryly. “No one ran through the grounds screaming about it or nothing.” 

“Well, Hamid does like to make an entrance,” Grizzop says. 

“He should hire some of the kids, then. There!” 

There’s a beautiful bronze dragon waiting gracefully at the end of the path, Zolf standing beside him. As they walk over, the dragon shifts back into a halfling, cloak tied around his shoulders, cheekbones shimmering golden. Hamid cries “AZU!” and throws himself into her arms in a way that’s so similar to Grizzop’s leap, mere minutes earlier, that Sasha has to smile. 

They meet Zolf halfway, and he gives Azu an amused glance. “I’d hug you, but I don’t know if you could manage another one right now,” he says. 

Azu just smiles. “I’m more than willing to try,” she says. 

“Hey, boss,” Sasha says, and Zolf reaches up to clap her on the shoulder. 

“How’s things, Sash?” She knows he isn’t just talking about the guild. Old stories cast long shadows. And life is never easy, not even now, so she just smiles, a little tiredness bleeding through. There’ll be time for this conversation later. What a luxury it is, at last, to have all the time in the world. 

“How’s everything down at the workshop? Where’s Cel?” Azu asks.

“They’re on their way,” Hamid says. “They have big plans for the cake, so…” 

“Yeah, best to bear with them,” Zolf agrees. His beard is longer now that it’s ever been, shining white in the sunlight. He’s part carpenter, part inventor nowadays, down at the workshop he runs with Cel. Hamid, technically, is a professional sorcerer, but Sasha knows really he spends most of his time in the workshop too, working on whatever scheme Cel and Zolf are cooking up.

Hamid drops down from Azu’s arms and takes Sasha’s hand as they walk inside. He’s warm, like the dragonfire still lingers under his skin. Zolf puts his arm around Azu’s waist, and Grizzop’s ears twitch happily. They all pretend to ignore the suspicious column of smoke rising from the kitchen gardens, which Sasha is sure has nothing at all to do with a certain Cel Sidebottom. 

Gods, she loves them. She loves them all. 

—

Dinner is a rowdy affair, full of laughter and bickering and Azu’s orcish moonshine. Cel joins late, smoke stains on their face, and Hamid laughs before offering the services of prestidigitation. He and Zolf clearly know what Cel’s been up to, but for once they’re keeping the secret dead quiet. 

Cel goes round and kisses everyone on the cheek as they head to their seat. Hamid kisses them back, Zolf smiles fondly, Azu goes in for a hug. Grizzop ducks and kisses them on the nose. 

When they get to Sasha, they just nod with a knowing smile, and lean in to whisper “You’re gonna love this!”

“Will it blow up my house?” Sasha whispers back, but with more excitement than the possibility of house destruction should really warrant. 

“Nope!” Cel says, with a wink. “I hope!” 

—

It’s immediately obvious what Cel had been doing to the cake, dark, huge and chocolate brown, and Sasha can’t help but gape a little. It’s _fireworks,_ high enough to reach the ceiling, sparking and flashing in every colour that Sasha’s ever dreamed of. There’s no bangs, Cel knows as well as any of them that they’ve all had enough of sharp, sudden noises, so they just fizzle and twist like fairies or shooting stars. Grizzop’s clapping and laughing, Hamid’s got his head on Azu’s shoulder, staring upwards, bewitched. 

“Sasha,” Zolf says quietly, and Sasha looks over at him. The fireworks reflect in his eyes. “Happy birthday. Hope you get many, many more.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr as drowinginstarlights :D


End file.
